Page 27 of Love in Mission City
She did.
I held the front door open for them. As soon as we stepped outside, Sheffield booted over to the nearest raised flowerbed. He lifted his leg and peed. And peed. And peed.
“Holy Lord, dog.” Maybe that explained the yanking. I eyed Rosebud. “You need to pee, sweetheart?”
I’d have sworn she gave me a dirty look. Whether because of the likely silly question or because of the nickname, I wasn’t certain. “Okay. No worries.” I hustled us over a spot of grass, after noting the impressive artwork Sheffield had left in the form of piss on concrete. No…urine. Somehow, that was more dignified.
Rosebud squatted and peed. And peed.
“Does your daddy not take you out enough?” I scrutinized them. Healthy coats of fur. Clearly brushed and groomed. Aside from Rosebud’s skittishness—which I certainly didn’t blame her for—or… Huh. I hadn’t caught the guy’s name. Of course, I hadn’t given him mine either.
When Rosebud finished her business, I headed east. If I went west, I would just run into a dead end. Mr. Goodlooking and Handsome might not have planned for a long walk—what with having a meeting in ten minutes—but I had all the time in the world. And no laptop. I could work on my phone, of course. I’d written my first manuscript that way—a few words between each phone call I’d taken at a dreary call center. The job paid well because no one wanted it. I’d sold life insurance for five years. I finished the book in three, polished it, and had sent it out on submission. Then, having received good advice from a mentor, I wrote the next book. That one had flowed easier than the first. I started getting up early to work on the story. Putting my heart into it.
At the time, Mama worried about how little sleep I was getting. She started sending me to bed early.If you’re going to get up before the roosters, you can damn well go to bed before them.Being a child of the city, I had no idea what she meant. Pops just rolled his eyes. Neither suggested I move out as I saved every penny for a down payment for my own condo and helped them out whenever I could.
My tiny studio condo was at least a corner unit with large windows on both the south and west sides. The building was angled a bit toward the east, so I would see the most glorious sunrises. I couldn’t understand why everyone wasn’t up at that hour to witness the majesty. Over the Sumas mountains and Mount Baker—Washington State’s dormant volcano—no less.
I planned to start posting them to Instagram. Along with random posts about books I was reading. And fantasy drawings Aisha, the eldest of my three younger sisters, created. And photos of our golden retriever Bowser—named by my youngest sister, Tansy. My previous pictures of sunrise skies, plus the drawings, and posts of other people’s stories held me in good stead with the publisher who picked up my book. I wasn’t controversial. I stuck close to myroots. Whatever that meant. Basically, I was a model author.
Sheffield stopped abruptly and headed toward a little patch of grass. He squatted.
“Oh. Okay. Uh…good boy.”
Bowser the golden hadn’t required praise. He just did his business and was ready to move on as soon as I scooped.
I snagged a bag from the container. I licked my fingers to get the bag open as soon as possible.
When Sheffield stepped away and used his back paw to push at the pretty grass, I coaxed him toward the sidewalk. “Let’s not uproot the pretty grass.” We’d had a parched summer last year, and not all the grass in town had bounced back despite the dampwinter. I was hopeful for the spring rains to come. Today was a break from those April showers. Cloudy enough that I didn’t need my sunglasses, but I was glad for the lack of rain because otherwise these two should’ve been in coats. I scooped the poop, twisted the top of the baggie into a knot, and scanned for a garbage can. Ah, there was one down the hill, near the shopping mall. I’d hoped to keep the dogs away from the busy strip mall, but given the choice between that and carrying around the baggie…? No brainer. I directed us down the hill.
Rosebud still gave me a wide berth.
I kept thinking of the old Orson Wells movie. What was it? Oh, right,Citizen Kane. And hadn’t it had some symbolic meaning? Huh. I’d have to google it when I got home. I had no idea if my neighbor knew about the movie. Or even if he’d named her.
Locating a garbage can was easy. Corralling the dogs was something else. Sheffield clearly wanted to go to the pet store, and Rosebud just planted her butt and wouldn’t move.
I eyed her.
She glared back. She didn’t seem afraid of me…just more unimpressed.
Huh. “I’ll buy you a toy.”
Rosebud’s nose twitched.
Sheffield jumped nearly three feet in the air. From a standing position. Damn, nearly made it to my waist.
“Okay, that settles it.”
Rosebud wouldn’t budge.
Crap. I don’t even know if they’re allowed treats. Shit.Obviously, I couldn’t call their dad and find out. Even if he wasn’t in a meeting, I didn’t know his name. “How about a toy?”
Rosebud’s nose twitched.
Sheffield yanked, pulling on his harness.
After what felt like forever, his sister deigned to walk toward the store. Luckily, another guy was heading to the store and held the door for me. “Thanks. A little much with two dogs.”
He gave me a long, lingering look.
